


Jon Snow: The Chosen One

by IamaskinnynakedpregantDany



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arya is a bad ass, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Dany is a bad ass, Dragons, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fred and George want Ghost and Greywind to eat Scabbers, Game of Thrones in Harry Potter Universe, Ghost tries to eat Scabbers, Greywind tries to eat Scabbers, Horcruxes, Humor, Jon is a bad ass, Language, Longclaw - Freeform, Lyanna Stark Lives, Maybe some cringe jokes, Robb is a bad ass, Scabbers does not like the Direwolves, Sex, The Starks - Freeform, Theon is a bad ass, Tyrion humiliates Joffrey, Tyrion slaps Joffrey, Tywin isn't loyal to anyone, Violence, War, direwolves, godfathers, the Elder Wand - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-14 05:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19266742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamaskinnynakedpregantDany/pseuds/IamaskinnynakedpregantDany
Summary: Tension; the prelude to escalation.That's how they all start--Tension.





	1. The Boy Who Lived

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I'm going to apologize for calling out what I thought was a Jonnsa shipper, but might not be,, that was unkind and rude, I am sorry. I crossed the line, I let my anger of authors misusing the Jonerys tag get the better of me, that is not okay, so I want to apologize.
> 
> Now for the story-- I started working on this last night- it just came into my head and I wanted to write it. Hopefully Chapter 2 is updated by Friday. Hope you enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyanna Stark reflects on the First Wizard War; Voldemort plots a return.

Tension; the prelude to escalation.

 

Tension; that is how they always begin. Tension; that is how these wars started.

 

The year was 1889 and it was in Godrick’s Hollow. There a ripple was unleashed. A ripple which would inflict terror on the wizarding world for a century to come. A ripple that would trigger divine evil to ascend. A ripple that would transpire two wars.

 

A three-way battle was this ripple.

 

Gellert Grindlewald, a once very talented student in the Durmstang Institution, had procured expulsion, for his dangerous studies of experimenting with the Dark Arts. Grindlewald, after being expelled, moved in with his aunt, Bathilda Bagshot, in Godrick’s Hallow. In Godrick’s Hallow, Gellert Grindlewald met and had become friends with Albus Dumbledore, a half-blood wizard, enrolled in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Bathilda Bagshot knew that Albus Dumbledore was a gifted wizard, who had potential to be one of the most powerful wizards of all time, like Gellert.

 

Albus and Gellert became friends, they were intelligent, talented, and for a time, they wanted to rule over the muggles with magic. They wanted to rule the world. They decided to search for the Deathly Hallows, which could make them invincible. But Dumbledore’s crumbling ties to his younger brother, Aberforth Dumbledore,and to his little sister, Ariana Dumbledore, proved ultimately to be their undoing, and a spark that would light the Wizarding World on fire. Fire patented in venality of terror. This spark, this fire, it was started within Godrick’s Hallow, in the year of 1889.

 

Aberforth had confronted Albus, as it was clear that Gellert was descending into madness; his twisted demented nature steered himself deeper into the Dark Arts. Albus, blinded by his love for his friend, refused to believe it, he had attempted to ignore, denying Grindlewald’s descent into lunacy. However, like in history before, it became clear that Grindlewald was beyond the point of return. Dumbledore had cut ties. Albus had offered his friend a chance to go on the run, but they both knew, the only wizard who could match his powers was Dumbledore himself. Grindlewald had a different sought. He declared, they would settle their differences, demanding his friend to fight him.

 

The 18-year-old Albus Dumbledore, initially refused to arm himself, even when being at wandpoint, by the dark shadow of his best friend, who had been consumed by divine madness. Grindlewald, knowing Dumbledore would not fight him unless forced to do so, had turned his wand on his armed 16-year-old-brother, sadistically using the Cruciatus Curse on him. This resulted in Albus being forced to step in, being given no choice but to duel his best friend, in order to defend his brother. This intervention turned into a three-way duel between Albus, Aberforth, and Gellert.

 

As the duel progressed, it grew ever more fierce, transforming into an all-out battle between the three young wizards. While they failed to hit each other, Ariana Dumbledore, who witnessed the duel, had been killed by a stray curse. Grindlewald had then fled, fearing retribution. But, none of the three knew who casted the spell. The aftermath this duel would have, not only instigated the global manhunt for Gellert (it would not end until Albus had confronted and defeated him in 1945), but it inspired another’s dark wizard’s climb. Another’s dark wizard’s climb of evil so immoral, and so decadent. Sometimes, it made Lyanna Stark pondered, in her study (as she wrote her book), inside the castle of Winterfell, if the Wizarding World got the chance, would they have chosen to have Grindlewald’s reign, over the one who’s had just ended?

 

Lyanna would never know.

 

What she did know was the Wizarding War, that had ended twelve years ago, had caused so much hate and fear to spread across England. It was so much hate and fear that was caused, by one individual, an individual, whose name was feared by wizards today. A name most witches and wizards dreaded to say. Yet, a name she was not petrified to utter.

 

His name: Lord Voldemort.

 

Voldemort, that was his given name, the name of the darkest wizard of all time. Sometimes, she wondered, **_How does saying a name cause a nation to tremble?_ **Lyanna asked herself that so many times she lost count. She would never know. **_What I do know is that I’m not afraid to say his name, not after that night in 1981._**

 

Besides herself, the only people who she knew weren’t afraid of using his name, were the highest-ranking leaders in the Order of the Phoenix. Most of them, who weren’t afraid to speaking his name, were already dead. Those brave enough to say his name and were lucky enough to survive the war, subsisted into a prolonged life of hiding. Lyanna lost her father and her oldest brother, killed by Voldemort himself.

 

They were tortured to death by the Dark Lord. Voldemort had demanded them to give them reports, concerning where Lyanna Stark and James Snow were at, who had killed twenty of his officers. Her father and her older brother refused to break, and Voldemort decided to kill them both. This proved to be his first major mistake. Since, Ned Stark, now as the heir of House Stark, rallied his banners of 20,000 witches and wizards, with help of their little brother, Benjen Stark, and his best friends, Sirius Black, the heir of House Black, Robert Baratheon, the heir of House Baratheon, Peter Pettigrew, a half-blood wizard, and Remus Lupin, a half-blood werewolf. They had declared war on Voldemort and soon the war was blown wide open.

 

There had been so many battles fought between the Death Eaters and the Order. There had been thousands of deaths. Aerys Blackfyre, Rhaella Blackfyre, Victorian Greyjoy, and Balon Greyjoy were just four of the thousand Death Eaters that were killed in the war. There had been so much magical blood spilled as it got worse and worse. The war had escalated into a never-ending stalemate, impacting everyone within the wizarding world, from purebloods to muggleborns, but the biggest impact it had was on House Lannister, the most powerful pureblood family in the Kingdom of England. Tywin Lannister was more powerful than Luscious Malfoy himself.

 

The war benefited the Lannister’s so much, they were able to remain neutral, much to his daughter, Cersei Lannister’s anger, but to his son, Jaime Lannister’s relief. They were making so much capital, by being the top wizard warmonger’s commerce in England. Tywin did business with the Death Eaters and the Order. Voldemort and Ministry attempted to threaten him, but Tywin reminded them that threanting him was a foolish idea, he had the biggest influence politically, and the biggest military influence in all of England. Voldemort and Dumbledore knew, until he declared a side, the war that would shape the future of the world, it would go on infinitely. Tywin was okay with that—he was not at all furtive by Voldemort or Dumbledore.

 

For ten years more, the war fumed on, neither side had an edge. It wasn’t until the spring of 1980, in the town of Hogsmeade, at the Hogs Head Pub, where a prophecy was foretold by Sybill Trelawney. Which would foreshadow the endgame of the war; the end of the war was near. A prophecy that would hold the key to the future of the world. A prophecy that had so much power, it would alter both an infant boy and an infant girl’s life. This boy was born that July 31st; his name was Jon Snow.

 

_“The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him… born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal… but he will have power that the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hands of the other… for neither can truly remain dead… if not met with destiny at each other’s hands… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… the one who is from Ice and Fire… will be born again as the seventh month dies...”_

 

A Death Eater was caught eavesdropping, and fathomed the first part, before getting kicked out from the pub, but he delivered it to his master. It was considered the turning point. Few could comprehend what the prophecy intended. Fewer knew what the context set around meant. There was one who suspected it. Albus Dumbledore had an idea, he did his research, but remained to tell no one. Albus Dumbledore advised James Snow and Lyanna Stark, to go into hiding with their 18-month-old son, Jon Snow, and their 6-month-old daughter, Arya Snow, and they did.

 

The war continued, and soon the Lannisters decided to enter the fray, Tywin declared his house and his bannermen for the Order. Tywin never fought for a losing side, even if he was bigot of blood purity, he was a cunning Lion that did anything to improve the Lannister name, he wanted the Lannister’s to be the most respected, the most powerful, and the most feared family in England. One by one, the Dark Lord’s closest allies started to get captured, and got sent to the Ministry to await trial. Those who were found guilty were sent to rot in Azkaban, those who managed to fiddle their way out of rotting in Azkaban, such as Luscious Malfoy, claimed they were under the control of the Imperious Curse, and managed to get immunity.

 

The Order had gotten the break they needed. Still; this war was not over just yet. Lord Voldemort remained at large, and until he was defeated, the war wasn’t over. Voldemort had one last ace hidden up his sleeve. An ace he had been waiting to use.

 

October 31st was coming. The remaining Death Eaters and the Dark Lord were hunting down the Snows. They were getting close. The Death Eaters knew it, and he knew it. They knew they were close. They just didn’t know where. It got so bad that Ned Stark, Benjen Stark, Robert Baratheon, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, were forced into hiding, just like James Snow and Lyanna Stark. Lyanna never believed that her best friends would betray her family. She refused to believe it. She trusted them all with her life. She had no choice. Lya and James decided to name their children’s Godfather as their secret keeper. That was what James told her, but she knew her husband, she knew that he would play this game to his chest. It didn’t matter who the secret keeper was within the end though. Lyanna had her suspicions, James and Sirius had agreed to do a double bluff; Sirius most likely was never the Secret Keeper, he couldn’t have been, instead, she had thought it was the rat. He would never betray them, he was best friends with Ned and James, he could never sell out the lives of his godchildren to save his own, he would die before he did.

 

That was what she had believed but she was wrong.

 

They had been in hiding for a year, Lyanna was recovering from birthing Arya, their cottage was under the Fidellius Charm. It was an extremely powerful ancient spell, that buried information on their location, in the soul of a certain individual. The plan was to make Sirius the Secret Keeper. She didn’t know about the last-minute change. None, but three people knew; James Snow, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. This last second change, this double bluff, this plan, it led to nothing, but disaster. 

 

It was the night of October 31st, 1981, and Lyanna would never forget that night. He was tipped off. He had traveled to their cottage and entered their home on Halloween, it offered no more protection, for their Secret Keeper betrayed them. Upon arriving, he saw James and Lyanna play with their children, as he walked on the patio, his silhouette covered his head, his black cloak hid his frame, his eyes scorching.

 

Lord Voldemort, blowing up the door with an explosive curse, entered the house, his crimson eyes leading him into the hall, guiding him into the living room. James then had shouted to his wife to take their babies and to flee, whilst he held him off. Wandless, however, the Dark Lord was able to easily put down James Snow, using the Killing Curse, killing him instantly. Voldemort then preceded up the stairs of the cottage, he had walked to the door, casted another explosive curse, causing the door to splinter everywhere.

 

He found Lyanna, her two babies, locked inside the nursery, the blown apart furniture scattered all over the room. Voldemort gave Lyanna the chance to step aside, vowing to let her daughter and her live, so he could kill her son. She refused and pleaded with him to kill her instead, and to spare her son’s and daughter’s life. He didn’t give her the entreaty, he casted the killing curse at her chest, but at the last second, right before the green light could hit her, the roof collapsed on her, she was bashed and was buried unconscious under the rubble of the roof of their nursery.

 

It felt like it was an invisible person covering her unconscious body under the rubble, as pieces of the roof of the room continued to fall on her, but none fatally hit her body. It seemed as this an illusory person had sacrificed himself, in order to save her life, from a near certain death; this time around. It didn’t matter that Voldemort had missed his mark. She had to be dead. There was no way she could’ve survived that. The Dark Lord pointed his wand at Jon’s heart, who was sitting in his cot with his sister, who was crying. He preceded to cast the Killing Curse on the boy.

 

However, because of Lyanna’s tried sacrifice of herself, the curse didn’t work, instead, the spell rebounded onto Lord Voldemort, obliterating his corporal form. His wand was blasted from his corpse and landed nearby in the demolished room. Jon Snow had survived the attempt on his life, he was virtually unharmed; all he had was a faded red one-inch curved boomerang scar over his heart. Jon Snow, her son, the boy who had just defeated the darkest wizard of all time, the boy who lived.

 

That night gave Lyanna nightmares. It would continue to give her nightmares for years. It was a miracle, alone for her, and her children to be so lucky to survive. She was lucky, her last two living brothers and Remus pulled her out from the wreckage, they took them to St, Mungo’s Hospital, a week later, Dumbledore spoke to her about the attack.

 

This was twelve years ago, the year was now 1993, she and her children lived at Winterfell with her brothers, her niece and nephews. And with her brother’s, Ned Stark’s set wards from the Ministry, Theon Greyjoy and Daenerys Blackfyre (who had fallen in love with her son— they both were 13). Ned obtained her out of a betrothal with Draco Malfoy—amid Tywin’s Lannister’s help. Lyanna smiled, as she completed her book, perhaps the worst was over. Perhaps, her 13-year-old Jon, and her 12-year-old Arya, could live a joyful life away from fear, but she knew, peace never lasts.

 

**-0-0-0-0-0-**

It had been fourteen years.

 

The Dark Lord Voldemort had waited fourteen long years for this opportunity to fall before him. The year was 1995. The events at Godrick’s Hollow had been an unfortunate misstep on his part, surly that mudblood cunt, and that bloodtraitor slut had placed an ancient spell on that filthy fucking half-blood baby boy. One that he somehow did not come across in his studies, and therefore had not been ready for it, it was the one way a toddler could defeat him. The thought this had on him made him seethe. 

 

Defeated? Defeated by a child? The war wasn’t even over when the old cunning lion decided to pledge himself to Dumbledore. Voldemort despised a certain three. One was a pureblood bigot; a pureblood bigot who would do anything to make the Lannisters, the most powerful, and the most feared pureblood family in the United Kingdom. They were extreme business and political rivals with the Malfoy family. Tywin to prove that he was the most powerful man in the wizarding world, helped Lord Eddard Stark to get Daenerys Blackfyre, who wasbetrothed to Draco Malfoy, out of her betrothal. He threatened the Minister of Magic, that if they didn’t do exactly what he wanted, he would cause Cornelius Fudge’s reputation to be ruined. Luscious was furious; his son’s gorgeous bride-to-be was stolen and was given to Ned Stark— like Theon Greyjoy was— since Tywin wanted to show off his influence on the Ministry.

 

Another he hated was Albus Dumbledore. He felt fury when Dumbledore came into his mind. This half-blood wizard, his arch nemesis, in his war for the world, he despised Tywin Lannister, but he derided Albus Dumbledore even more. However, his hate for Dumbledore was nothing compared to the rage, he had in his soul for Jon Snow.

 

If he still had his physical body, he was sure his insides would be boiling with anger, boiling with anger, so hot that as if it would burn his skin, like hot magma. The sense of fury would creep its way up his throat, pounding his head like a drum, until he was done. He longed to finish what he started fifteen years ago, he would not stop until the boy was long dead, Lord Voldemort would not stop, until he killed Jon Snow. He would kill him, his bloodtraitor mother, his disgusting half-blood sister, his revolting bloodtraitor uncles, his sickening bloodtraitor cousins, and the two wards.

 

Instead, he, the Dark Lord, who was so feared people couldn’t speak his name, was in hiding. He was now a shadow of what he once was, he resorted to possessing snakes to keep himself alive. And he was sure, if it weren’t for his exigency plan, he would surely be dead. In all his life, he had never felt shame and humiliation, as overwhelming as this felt. Alone, vanquished, by a babe, abandoned by his “loyal” Death Eaters, it seemed hopeless, it seemed impossible to find a way to regain his physical body.

 

Though to his surprise a chance at salvaging everything had stumbled into him.

 

Quirinus Pycelle Quirrell, a feeble perverted minded man, who somehow had the honor of calling himself a Hogwarts professor, came across him in the dark forest of Albania. Taking possession of his mind was easier than breathing for him, and soon, he was his loyal servant, his legitimacy of controlling Quirrell’s mind was easy.

 

It took a full month of endless research, he outright refused the man any sleep, but Quirrell had found a ritual that could restore a spirit to a body. Be it destroyed or withered from time, the ritual would heal it and age properly, as though nothing ever happened.It was exactly was what he needed, and once it was done, he would find his faithless followers, he was going to make sure they remembered that he, and not Albus Dumbledore, nor Tywin Lannister, was the most powerful wizard in the world. He would have no more of this bullshit. Voldemort was going to make sure they remembered, who they turned away from, he was going to punish all of them accordingly.

 

It was a month until they were ready.

 

Quirrell, though a gullible fool, knew his magic and went through the ritual with ease. Symbols were on the ground, complex leveled-potions were brewed and used accordingly, and then, he said the incarnation with confidence, that he never did before. 

 

 _“The Blood to the vein, the skin to the bone, the breaks be mended, tears be sewn. Soul to fit in corpses cast, let they who left, let they who left, and be whole at last!”_ Voldemort could have been foaming at his mouth, with eagerness, if he had his physical body. Though, he wasn’t, nor was he, once the ritual was over and done with. 

 

“What happened?” Voldemort hissed.

 

Quirrell trembled in fear, shaking his head fervently, “I- I did it right, my master. I read—” Voldemort lost it. “You failed me!” the Dark Lord growled behind him. “What is to stop me from training your wand on yourself, my idiotic Quirrell?” he hissed.

 

“M- my l-lord, p- please! I beg of you! The ritual! The ritual may not have worked,b-but, but we can f-find other ways! B-better ways!” Quirrell’s stuttering nature made him struggle internally. The Dark Lord wanted snap this idiot’s neck in half, and he would’ve, if he was given a corporeal body, but instead he didn’t, thus he unfortunately couldn’t kill him. This man, at this very moment, maintained the best chance he had to regaining power. “Take us back to the Inn, Quirrell. There we’ll discuss your punishment, perhaps, you could scrounge something up, to save your useless life.” The servant did not stop praising and thanking his Lord the entire way home.

 

This was the last time Voldemort swore to know failure; he would kill Jon Snow.


	2. Six Direwolf Pups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany have some sexy time; Lyanna reflects on 1981; Robb makes a discovery; a party approaches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Chapter 2. Enjoy:)

The year was 1995.

 

As the near fifteen-year-old boy, Jon Snow, finally had opened his sleepy eyes, he observed the sunlight streaming in from their bedroom window, catching the gorgeous silver blonde hair of the girl, who was his betroth, in the bed they had shared for over a year. They began sleeping together on Jon’s fourteenth birthday, they both agreed they wanted it, they wanted to cuddle, they wanted to make out, and they wanted to feel each other, naked, all the time, when the chance presented itself. They wanted to make love whenever they could, they both were madly in love.

 

Jon Snow smiled at Daenerys Blackfyre; this hot girl he loved with all his heart.

 

Jon wrapped his muscular arms around Dany’s nude skinny waist, right over her gorgeous milky flat tummy, pulling her protectively closer to his body, their bodies tangled under the white sheets of their bed. Jon heard Dany let out a small giggle or a happy moan. Jon wasn’t sure. What was sure was that it sent blood to his cock, her happy moans caused it to instantly get hard, and his erected cock pressed against her naked perfect round ass. It caused Dany to giggle happily in sensation.

 

“Please tell me that’s uh- your spare wand, that’s pressing against my ass, baby,”

 

Jon blushed but recovered and pressed a delicate kiss on the back of her head. “Does it matter, love? We both know you love it, when it presses against you,” Daenerys switched her spooning position, wiggling her ass in his arousal, before she turned around and faced him. A mischievous grin was on her beautiful face. “You know I do, my love, I get so happy when I get to feel your little cute wolf press against my butt,” she said with a twinkle, causing Jon and her to chuckle at her joke about his penis. Her lips were waged a kiss, and she pressed her body against his. “I love you, Daenerys Blackfyre,” said Jon, looking deeply into her purple eyes. When Jon Snow viewed her in their bed, it always made his heart flutter in the mornings.

 

Dany felt his love, the calm before their love making, “I love you too, Jon Snow,”

 

Her scenic purple eyes stared romantically into his stunning greyish wolf eyes, her betroth was so beautiful. When she was naked with him, in bed, under their covers, just cuddling, with each other. Dany could look at him for hours. She could look at his entire body, his perfect feet, his perfect legs, his perfect thighs, his perfect hips, and she loved his cock— even though it wasn’t the biggest cock in the world.

 

Dany loved looking his beautiful ripped abs and his perfectly firm squared chest. She thought, his one inch faded red boomerang scar was so hot, she loved to kiss it all the time. Even though, the two of them, Arya Snow, Theon Greyjoy, Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Brandon Stark, and Rickon Stark, had no idea how Jon had gotten it. The adults refused to tell them, and his intended, until his fifteenth birthday. Daenerys had suspicions about his scar, since there would be some nights where they slept together, when Jon would wake up cold as ice, covering the faded mark over his heart. Dany didn’t know what was happening, so she started to become worried about him.

 

Jon would sooth her, however, telling her, “the pain isn’t bad, love.” Daenerys had asked him, “Do you remember anything from your dreams, that could have triggered this nightmare?” Jon had brooded, as they cuddled under their covers. Next he finally had replied, “The only thing I can remember about these dreams, Daenerys, is a green light, as well as a Halloween-like ghost laugh. Then I wake up clutching the scar over my heart.” Jon had told her sincerely; the pain just lasted for a couple seconds.

 

Dany had looked at him. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked worriedly as her hand stroked his cheek. “I’m fine, my love, I promise,” Jon had told her, kissing her lips, “come here,”pulling her down, laying her head on his chest, and pulling their covers mostly over their bare private parts. Dany had sighed contentedly, snuggling into him, moaning in pleasure, and moaning in sleepiness. She kissed his scar delicately, before she rested her head over his heart. They went back to sleep that night.

 

She had a mischievous smile on her lips. She wanted to be on top this time. Daenerys wanted to ride her love wolf, like there was no tomorrow, she wanted to ride him slowly this morning. She wanted to giggle, as she rocked her hips slowly back and forth, his cock buried deep inside her, she wanted play with her love wolf this morning, with her slow pace, she wanted to feel his semen; his love swim deep inside her body, she wanted him. Jon knew what she was about to do, he made a puppy face, begging they made love without teasing his release. It caused Dany to giggle.

 

“No, my hot love wolf, we’re making love my way, not your way, this morning.” Dany kissed him passionately, demanding entrance inside his mouth, she wanted to make love to his tongue. Jon and Dany loved it when they started to make out, it was so wonderful, sometimes it was cause them to orgasm together, just from a simple make out session.

 

They started making out when they were 12 years old. When they were 13 years old, they took the next step; wearing only boxers, hot bras and panties, trunks, and hot bikinis. Dany started to make out with Jon, like a hungry animal as they became teenagers, whenever no one was looking. Eventually, they were caught by Remus Lupin, as they were making out nude in the Winterfell Springs. Remus told Lyanna and Ned. Ned and Lyanna with Remus’s help, told them they could start sleeping together, but it came with one condition. Jon, Dany, Robb, and Theon had to learn from Remus about sex education; they four did it together, much to Robb and Theon’s disdain.

 

Remus Lupin had taught them everything from Dueling to Potions. They liked him very much. They enjoyed all his classes. Except for one: Sex Education. Remus was merciless and gave them tests. One test was on how to make birth control potions. It was an expected downer, but they four learned, and Dany knew how to make the birth control potion. They would do it again, if it meant they didn’t have to sneak around anymore. They loved to map each other’s body. Dany loved it, while Jon mapped her whole body. She loved to make love with him, she loved everything about Jon Snow. Dany hoped that she along with him were going to be placed in the House of Gryffindor.

 

Again, Jon felt his cock get hard on her pale skinny tummy. In response, Dany jiggled her nude body tightly against his nude body. She let out many happy moans, as they continued to kiss feverishly, they started to kiss and roll around in their bed. She felt his sticky seed starting to seep down, dripping into her belly button. Dany felt the damp heat between her thighs rising, she was ready, she was wet and ready.

 

Dany then straddled him; she looked down with complete happiness at her Jon. **_I love him so fucking much. We better be in House Gryffindor, I better not be in Slytherin. I want nothing to do with sadistic families, I want to be with my real family_ , **she thought. Dany knew her parents were bad, but didn’t know why. The Starks were her family. Jon was her world. Winterfell was her home. **_I may not be Stark, but I’m loyal to them. I will always be loyal to them, they are the family I choose._**

 

Jon looked up at his naked Dany. She was so beautiful. She was flawlessly naked. **_I love her so fucking much,_ **he thought as she looked down on him, she made his heart thaw. **_We better be in Gryffindor, I want to come inside her body every night._**

 

Daenerys gave him her smirk, perching her hands on his chest, as she climbed him, sitting her ass right over his groin. Her ass was pressing against his erection. They kissed again, she showed off her flexibility to him, bending so much like a cat, refusing to move her ass an inch on his cock, her frame did the work, she brought her lips inches away from his, a smile was on her face, by just looking at Jon’s reaction.

 

The fun love games they were playing to pleasure herself, they made her so wet. It came to the point, where her warm wetness would soak their sheets with her fluids. These games made him so hard. They kissed again and her hands rubbed his chest slowly; she was torturing him now. She knew he wanted to come inside her. Dany sighed happily; this was enough games for today. She wanted him inside her too.

 

Dany sank on his cock without warning and he groaned in response. His hands gripped her hips tightly, Dany gave him her look, and he gently loosened his hold. When she started to move, she used her slow technique which herded him mad. Jon groaned. He much preferred it, when she rode him with an abandon speed, as this slow rocking didn’t allow them a quick climax, but kept them on the edge for what felt like hours. He knew she loved to do it. She always loved when they went slow. He looked up at her. She smirked naughtily at him, as she teased him even more, by groping her firm pale breasts. He groaned again. Dany loved to tease him with her pleasure games. 

 

His hand moved between their bodies, the sides of her waist, rubbing her in an attempt to speed her along. She moaned at the contact but didn’t change her pace. Frustrated, Jon tried to flip her, but she resisted with more strength than seemed possible, for her lean naked small frame. His eyes closed as he could feel her smirking triumphantly at him. He was at her mercy. Jon made a pouty whine. “Dany,” he wailed with a sense of desperation, “please, baby,” Dany didn’t give in. “No, my love. What’s fun about speeding up our loving making, when we can make love for hours, by just going slow and gentle, baby?” asked Dany; a giggle escaping her lips.

Dany kept on her slow and steady pace, but eventually bent down to place kisses to his chest, lingering on the faded red scar over his heart. Finally, she sped up. This caused Jon’s head to fall back in relief, into his pillow, causing Dany to laugh. “Patients, baby, we’ll get there, I promise.” She whispered, she didn’t want to wake up anyone this morning in the castle. Particularly, not Robb, who turned 15 today, July 28th, 1995. The last thing she wanted was Remus, one of Jon’s uncles, or his mother, walking in on them. Them telling the teenage lovers that it was time for breakfast, as they were having their slowest love making ever, would be awkward for them. Daenerys moved her lips up his body, kissing his neck, kissing his face, kissing his lips. Before pleasing his ear lobe, between her perfect teeth, biting it softly. He groaned. She pulled back, just to tease him, before diving back in and brushing her lips against his ear, licking his ear like a puppy would lick a person. “My naked love wolf,” she purred softly to him. Jon smiled; he was her naked love wolf.

 

And Daenerys was his naked love dragon. “My naked love dragon,” he whirred softly to her, they chuckled at the exchange of the cute names for each other. Then he gently thrusted deeper inside her. It caused her to moan as their lips clashed. His mouth was pasted on hers, as they neared their peaks, their tongues having a duel in the other’s mouth. Their climax, though, couldn’t have been planned worse. They reached their orgasms— just as the door was being opened. They turned to see Lyanna walk in the room.

 

Lyanna didn’t even look surprised at the sight in front of her. Dany had her hands propelled on his shoulders, while his hands were over her butt, both stopped what they were doing. They turned their heads and looked at her. If she hadn’t walked into the room, she was sure they would’ve finished making love, she knew they loved doing it. Instead, they were frozen, like they were two dears getting caught in headlights. Ensuing, just a second later, they spurred away from being connected, interlacing themselves under the covers, concealing their naked bodies from being exposed. She laughed at this sight. This was how happy her son and his girlfriend were. However— that wasn’t the reason why she was there this morning. Lyanna needed their help.

 

“Good morning, my two adoring love birds,” Lyanna playfully told the teenagers.

 

Jon and Dany blushed embarrassed, they looked up at his mother, their bodies covered by their sheets. They needed to work on being quiet more. “Good morning, Mum,” Jon creaked, embarrassment evident. Lyanna seeing this was awkward for them, walked away from her spot. She then closed the door behind her, sparing them any more humiliation. She walked back to her spot, revealing why she was here this morning. “I need your help making breakfast this morning. You know it’s Robb’s birthday. We have a lot to do, Arya and I struck a deal. She offered to help, if I managed to get you to cook too.” Lyanna revealed; they sighed and nodded. “So, take a quick shower, get some clothes on, and come downstairs in fifteen into the kitchen.”

 

“Okay. We’ll get ready.” Dany reddened.

 

“Good.” Lyanna said, strolling her way towards the door. Before leaving, she looked back to the teenager lovers, just one more time. Lya couldn’t help herself. “Jon, if you want me to give you tips to drive Dany crazy, and how to pleasure her, just let me know. Your father loved to use his tongue on me, he made me go crazy when he-”

 

“MUM! PLEASE NO!”

 

Lyanna limited her grin at her son’s crimson face. “I’ll see you two downstairs.”

**-0-0-0-0-0-**

It had been nearly fifteen years since that nightmarish evening, where they were attacked by a mad man. Though her husband, James Snow, had died in the attack, Lyanna Stark and her only two children, Jon Snow and Arya Snow, had survived. She and her children were living in the home she grew up in with her family, Winterfell. It was a castle found in Northern Scotland; owned by the Starks, with her two brothers, her big brother, Lord Edward Stark and her little brother, Benjen Stark.

 

They lived there along with her niece and nephews’ godfather, Remus Lupin, and with Daenerys Blackfyre and Theon Greyjoy. Her father, Rickard Stark, though was a pureblood wizard, loved wizards and muggles alike. He always had a habit of giving his healing potions to unsuspecting midwives and Scottish muggle villagers in the area. He’d also grown a lot of unusual plants, at least, unusual to Muggles. Though the garden changed plants as many generations of the Starks cultivated the flowers they each liked best, the spells inside the castle had not changed.

 

Inside, Winterfell was filled old magic tucked away in the walls. There were many portraits hanging from the walls, all of old wizards with the kindest smiles. And, on the fireplace mantle sat new pictures of a young couple and their young infant son and young infant daughter. As their young infant son and young infant daughter got older, the pictures remained the same, but only included three of the four members of the family. These pictures didn’t speak the way the portraits did. They did not admonish to comb hair or advise to watch out for the loud buzzer that sounded when stepped on a dead center of the fourth stair. The way the large hanging paintings did. These photographs only moved, like a single moment being replayed over and over again. On some of them, laughter could be heard from the magical paintings.

 

Most of the pictures (as there weren’t many pictures of the four of them together since her husband, James Snow, had died when his son and daughter were infants) were of Lyanna and her two children. There were pictures of Jon and Arya growing up from being her adorable babies and turning into two resilient and attractive teenagers, of 15 years old and of 14 years old. They looked so much different, as the growed. They weren’t her chubby babies anymore. They had grown up so fast for Lyanna.

 

Her son was a 5’10 hansom fifteen-year-old teenager, whose hair was black as a raven, he had her Stark features, but his curls and his broody face were of the textures of his father. His most prominent feature, however, was the one-inch faded crimson distinct boomerang scar right over his heart, that he had received when he was 18 months old. Her daughter was nearly a copy of Lya inside and out. She couldn’t have been prouder at how much they had grown up in the last fifteen years.

 

Always, when the children went out with Lyanna Stark and their two uncles, there were witches and wizards everywhere, who knew who Jon Snow and Arya Snow were. They all knew about the marked boomerang scar over her son’s heart. It was very important, whatever it was that he had done, he had figured that out when he was ten years old. However, even when her firstborn became a teenager, she and her brothers still refused to tell him, slipping little detail about his scar. “The scar over your heart is a mark of something great, and of something terrible. We’ll tell you two, and the rest of the kids about it, on your fifteenth birthday, Jon, not before.” Lyanna told Jon and Robb when they were 13-years-old. That was in 1993.

 

The weeks leading up to this had been wild for everyone who lived at Winterfell. Cleaning the castle from top to bottom, pruning the gardens in the back, preparing everything for today, attested to be an endurance for all who lived at Winterfell, specifically for the teenagers. They were forced to help too around the large estate. When Lyanna was finished pruning their garden in their large park of Winterfell, the garden looked wild as the Amazon, this didn’t go unnoticed to Ned, Benjen, or Remus.

 

“Lyanna,” Ned had explained desperately to his little sister. He had confronted her in the kitchen about her plans, just a week ago, for making their garden looking completely wild and unrestrained in their massive backyard, “we can’t have our garden looking wild like a jungle, we don’t live in the jungle, we live in the North of Scotland-”

 

“Enough, Ned!” Lyanna had snapped at her big brother, “You and Benjen are my brothers, and I love you both very much. But you two, and even Remus, are bad at planning things in advance. The garden looking wild gives Winterfell a good look, it got boring for me growing up. By just looking at the grassy hills and the woods in our backyard,” the She-Wolf had taken a deep breath before she then continued, “the garden looks better, if it looks like an ancient majestic jungle, you have to trust me on this, brother,” Lyanna had conveyed her brother, for whom was not clearly convinced with his little sister.

 

“Oh yes, little sister,” Ned had agreed sarcastically. “The garden is going to look like an ancient majestic jungle to our guests, until it starts trying to eat all of our guests alive-” Ned didn’t have the chance to finish because Robb and Arya had been revealed to be eavesdropping on their argument about how the garden should look. “I agree with mum, Uncle Ned,” Arya intervened, happily sharing her opinion, “and Robb does as well.”

 

“Dad, I also agree with Aunt Lyanna, the garden being wild is a good look for Winterfell,” Robb Stark started to explain; a grin of amusement spreading across his face. “Besides the party, for me and Jon’s fifteenth birthday, would be far more amusing for us, if the plants tried eating the adults alive. Don’t you agree with us, Aunt Lyanna?” Lya had smiled at her daughter and her nephew. She didn’t say anything, except for correcting his grammar. “Jon and I, Robb,” she corrected, “not Jon and me.” Robb reddened, her daughter let out a small giggle, looking at her cousin’s face. “Arya, do not laugh,” She had scolded Arya playfully. “You and Jon make grammar mistakes like Robb makes. So does Theon, Dany, Sansa, Bran, and Rickon.”

 

Eventually she was able to convince Ned to let her have her way with the garden. Everything that preceded came with little dispute at how everything should look. She had complete control over how the part would be set up and how the party would look. Lyanna was pulled out from her thoughts when she heard her daughter swear. Lyanna turned to see that Arya successfully managed to overcook the bacon.

 

“Shit!” Arya hissed at her mistake.

 

“I heard that.” Lyanna had replied.

 

Arya looked up from the pan she was managing, she looked up at her mother, who was finishing battering the pancake mix. She was unsurprised and a little frustrated, that her mother was using magic while cooking. While Arya had to cook like a muggle would. “Why do you use magic, when I have to cook the muggle way, this isn’t fair!” Lyanna rolled her eyes at her daughter’s teenager stubbornness. “You have to cook the muggle way, Arya. You know you can’t use magic till you are fifteen years old. So until you get your wand at Ollivander’s, you have to cook like a muggle would.”

 

She knew her daughter hated cooking since she was bad at it; she sympathized. “Sweetheart, it’s okay, don’t be ashamed. When I was your age, I was bad at cooking too. You can go set the table for everyone. Jon and Daenerys can cook the bacon, they’ll help me out with the rest of the stuff here. You go get the table ready. Do we have a deal?” Arya looked at her mother for a couple seconds, before she nodded her head, agreeing with her mother’s deal. She got out from cooking. This was a win for her.

 

“Okay, we have a deal, mum,” Lyanna smiled as Arya went to complete her task.

**-0-0-0-0-0-**

When Jon and Dany were done taking their shower, finished getting dressed, they went downstairs and started to make way for the kitchen. That was where his mother was making breakfast for ten people. As they went past the living room, they saw the grey carpet was littered with all of Robb’s and his birthday presents. It looked as though his cousin had gotten the new wizard warfare military strategy game that he wanted. Robb loved military strategy while Jon loved and excelled at dueling.

 

Jon, Robb, Daenerys, and Theon got so good at dueling, by sneaking into the Winterfell dueling room at night, when their parents and their uncles were fast asleep. Unknowingly to their parents and uncles’ knowledge, they borrowed their wands and used them. They weren’t old enough to buy their wands, as the legal age in England to buy a wand was minimum of fifteen years old. The four became such great duelers— that some could say they had the equivalent talent of Seventh Year students at Hogwarts School. That was how good the four were. They eventually were caught by Lyanna and Remus, but after initially getting grounded, the four of them were able to strike a deal with the adults. They would be allowed to duel in the future. If they were being supervised by either Lyanna, Remus, Ned, or Benjen, and if they agreed to be homeschooled, by Remus, at the advance level about the common core subjects taught at Hogwarts. When he couldn’t teach at the time of the Full Moon, Lyanna would teach the four teenagers. Though they hated being homeschooled, they knew it paid off, because it would give them a significant advantage over their class. The retention ended— when they had arrived at the kitchen.

 

The kitchen was a war zone. Before they knew what was happening, Jon and Dany were put straight to work by Lyanna, who was mixing the pancake mix, and was preparing to seep it onto a nearby pan over her stove unit where she and her son were at work. Jon was frying scrambled eggs, he’d taken up his little sister’s failed task at cooking the bacon. Dany was standing over the counter, chopping the fruit up for the fruit salad, which his mother had planned to have them make for everyone. Theon was finally brought downstairs to the kitchen and neither he was spared from cooking. Arya came back into the kitchen with Sansa. The two girls were finishing up setting up the cutlery on the table. Ned and Benjen oversaw Bran and Rickon deliver cold beverages to the table—Remus was making coffee and tea. Eventually after what felt like forever, everything was ready, much to everyone’s relief.

**-0-0-0-0-0-**

Once breakfast was over—the two fifteen-year-olds started opening up their presents that were littered on living room carpet. Robb and Jon had received the admission letters to enroll into Hogwarts School. Aslant with Theon and Daenerys. The adults told the four they would go get the school supplies on August 1st. When they were done opening the gifts—the children then went out as a pack into the Wolf’s Wood. They found Robb kneeling by a riverbank past the white bridge they just crossed within the park. The summer rain storms had been heavy this July for Scotland. Jon saw that Robb was kneeling near something furry and massive. The creature was vaulted in blood.

 

“Robb— what is it?” Jon probed.

 

“A dead wolf.” Robb had replied.

 

“Well let’s get away from it. Don’t be stupid. Whatever just killed it. Could kill—”

 

“Shut up Theon!” Arya whispered harshly at the annoying teenaged squid boy. “It made a noise.” Robb looked up at Arya. “How is it supposed to make a noise? It’s dead.” Arya instantly replied to her cousin. “How am I supposed to know that?” Dany then rolled her purple eyes, but grinned at this new She-Wolf’s stubbornness. “Well, you heard it, Arya,” she said. She had a point, but she really did hear a noise. What if the wolf was still alive? She doubted it, but something had made that noise. “Well, maybe it’s still alive, Daenerys,” commented the fourteen-year-old She-Wolf bolshily.

 

“Have you seen it? It is definitely—”

 

“Dammit, for Merlin’s fucking sake, please will you just fucking shut up, Theon!” Robb snapped, walking towards the giant beast. Studying it, as he crouched down. “It’s dead, Arya,” he told his cousin solemnly. Theon turned toward Arya, he was getting ready to gloat in her face, but he never got the chance to do so, when whimpering noise was made again. “See, Squiddy, I told you so,” Arya huffed, and everyone, but Theon, who had a look of embarrassment and anger, started to laugh at her jest.

 

“It’s not coming from the wolf, Arya,” Robb announced to her, “it’s coming from underneath it,” as he and her brother reached under the massive dead wolf, and pulled out a puppy. Her face lit up before it turned to sour when Theon pissed her off again. “We should kill them. They’ll not be able to survive long without their mother pro—”

 

“No!” Arya snapped. “We will take care of them!”

 

“Four pups, one for each of the Stark children, the Direwolf is a sigil of your House. You were meant to have them, Robb,” Jon chipped in, pulling them out from underneath their dead mother. Robb began to stand up and began to walk back where the others were standing, looking distracted for a bit, focusing on something within the background, before walking back to whatever his cousin was cautiously staring at.

 

“Well make it six pups,” he then noted, “one for you, Jon, and one for you, Arya,”

 

She looked at her brother for reassurance, he gave his little sister a small smile. “Go on, pick one.” Arya couldn’t help to hide the excitement that creeped up on heras she walked towards Robb. She examined the pups, a brown one with brown eyes, a grey one with golden eyes, and an albino one with red eyes. The grey one caught her attention first, so she took the one from Robb’s arms and looked up at puppy. “I want this one.” Arya said with a smile.

 

“It’s yours then.” Robb smiled at Arya.

 

“We’ll assign the others when we get back, the party starts at noon,” Jon stated.

 

Jon was right. Their mother wouldn’t be happy if they showed up late for the party. When they arrived back to Winterfell, they still had some time to spare, but they were caught by their uncle, Ned Stark, in their Quidditch broomstick shed. “What’s the meaning of this?” Ned said, taking the sight of the children before him, all clutching pups in their arms. “Their mother was dead, so we decided to adopt them,” Robb replied simply. Ned shook his head; his niece could feel the frustration coming off of him. “You’ll train them yourselves, you’ll feed them yourselves, and if they die, you’ll bury them yourselves,” he exclaimed. She let out a sigh of relief. Arya stared at the girl puppy she was holding and smiled at the small pup wolf. “Nymeria. I’m going to name you Nymeria.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 will be out by Tuesday or Wednesday.


	3. Letters From Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four teenagers get their letters from Hogwarts; Lyanna oversees party preparations; a certain rat begins to tremble; Jon overhears a conversation.

Dany, Robb, Jon, and even, Theon had spent the month at the kitchen window, anxiously awaiting the owls, which would bring their Hogwarts acceptance letters.Theon’s 15th birthday already came on July 1st this year. Robb’s 15th was today, her son’s 15th birthday was July 31st, while Dany’s 15th birthday was August 12th. If Lyanna had to guess, it was the Deputy Head Mistress of Hogwarts School, Professor Minerva McGonigle, who decided to send all their acceptance letters on the same day. Most likely today, July 28th, as it was Robb’s birthday. The four of them were edgy this month. They became stressed like any 18-year-old would be, if they hadn’t been accepted into College, as the Senior Year of High School neared the finish line.

 

“So will it come today, Mum?” Jon had asked his mother desperately one night.

 

“Jon, you know, I don’t tell or order owls when to deliver letters,” Lyanna had replied while cooking dinner that night. “Though you could, right, Aunt Lyanna?” then asked Robb. “And how would I do that, Robb? I’m not the master of owls,” his mother had answered rather a little impatiently at the two teenagers. Lyanna soon had sighed sympathetically. “Okay look, I know the four of you are stressed at the moment. But I promise you, you’ll get your Hogwarts enrollment letters, along with Theon and Dany, on Robb’s birthday. They probably want to send them to you four on the same day.”

 

On Wednesday, July 26th, Dany, Robb, Jon, and Theon came downstairs to the kitchen rather marooned. The four of them picked at their scrambled eggs with their forks, and they were just stirring at their oatmeal with their spoons. This didn’t go unnoticed Benjen Stark, who was reading the latest edition of the Daily Prophet, when he put down the newspaper to see that the four teens had a lack of appetite.

 

“What’s the matter?” Benjen asked.

 

“We aren’t going to Hogwarts.” Theon answered unhappily. 

 

“We did not get our letters.” Dany had added despondently.

 

Ben gazed at his two oldest nephews who were brooding jadedly. The Stark were known for brooding. Benjen started to laugh at this site. “Relax you four, you’re going to get them in two days. The last thing you need is stress about a simple letter.”

 

Two days following, they were in the living room, after the family had breakfast, when the four oldest teenagers had spotted an owl. Right as they were about to open Robb and Jon’s gifts. Its talons were gripping a stack of colorful envelopes, hooting impatiently at the family, to let it come in and drop the letters off to them, so it could fly away. The four of them race up from the couch and sprinted towards the window. 

 

All the adults and the younger kids in the room laughed at the site, except for Remus, who distasted owls as they would annoy him at the nights of the Full Moon. “Owls,” Remus muttered under his breath, “they’ll be our demise.” Ned snorted in utter amusement at his children’s godfather. While his brother rolled his eyes at the teenagers— as the four lifted the hilt of the window up, finally letting the grey owl fly inside.

 

The owl screeched fearing that the teens were going to tear it apart to its limbs, before it had the chance to drop the letters off. Everyone thought it would happen, and it would have happened, if it weren’t for Lyanna to snap at the four teenagers. “Merlin’s, you four! The owl thinks you are going to tear its limbs off, before it has the chance to drop the letters off! Will the four of you be patient? Give it a chance to complete its job!” They groaned in response but complied; they were really bad at patience.

 

“Well congratulations, teens,” Benjen grated before he took another sip of his coffee out of his Direwolf mug, “but please for me, your favorite uncle, read us just one acceptance letter. We don’t need to be tortured by you four this morning, when we already have a lot of work to do, and need to set this enchanted tent outside. Who wants to read?” Lyanna sent her little brother her dangerous glare that he just ignored. Jon looked at his three best friends’ faces, they didn’t want to read theirs aloud. “Alright fine,” he sighed, “I’ll read mine then.” Jon had proceeded to rip open the parchment. “Carefully, or you’ll tear it,” Lyanna warned her son. Jondrew out his letter, penned on a wizard parchment, thick as the envelope it had been sent in.

 

 _“Dear Mr. Snow,”_ Jon recited aloud, _“we are pleased to announce that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find the enclosed list of all the necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1 st, 1995. We await your owl by no later than July 31st. Yours sincerely, ProfessorMinerva McGonigle, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”_

 

Jon picked up the list of supplies he would need for school. “Does this mean we will be going to Diagon Alley?” Lyanna took the list from him and looked it over. “Nowhere else to get a standard cauldron.” She then muttered under her breath. “Dammit. They still require those stupid hats. I really wished they changed that rule.”

 

“No elegant wizard or witch wear hats anymore. I think it’s very incompetent.”

 

“The Malfoys wear hats.” Lyanna smiled at Ned. Ned snorted. “So do the Freys.”

 

Benjen turned his eyes at what his sister inferred. “Disgusting wizard families.”

 

The teenagers could feel the atmosphere within the room get thinner. The next thing they knew— the topic was then trajected back to more enthusiastic light by Daenerys. “Can we go to Diagon Alley before the party? We have time to spare.” Lyanna shook her head. “We can’t today. We’ll go on August 1st. We have to set up the tent for the party. You four take Arya with you, and go explore the Wolfs Wood, I want you four back by 11am. Everyone needs to be dressed nice—I don’t want any complaining Jon.”

 

“Fine Mum.” Jon grumbled.

**-0-0-0-0-0-**

Lyanna shook her head. She was shocked at what her son and daughter were holding, a smile crept up on her face. They had found Direwolves, they had found six Direwolf pups. Ned must have had an interesting reaction. Benjen was going to love this.

 

Remus was going to be amused at what they brought back. Jon was holding an adorable albino wolf pup, that had red eyes. Arya was holding a cute grey wolf pup, that had golden eyes. The wolf pups looked adorable to her. “Do they have names?” Lyanna asked her children excitingly. She wished James was here— he would have had venerated this. “I decided to name mine Ghost.” Jon spoke first to his mother. “I decided to name mine Nymeria.” Arya added on after her big brother was done. “They look so beautiful.” Lyanna told them with a sweet smile on her face, she was about to ask if she could hold one, but remembered the party was an hour away. “You two need to get properly dressed, the wolf pups can be out there, if they areleashed.”

 

In the hour leading up to the party, a large cake for Jon and Robb’s 15th Birthday was set up in the meadow leas under a large tent. Remus and Benjen assisted Ned to set up the tent, and some minor enchantments were made. The enchantments were to keep the summer sun from scorching the guests, and to magically expand the interior of the revel tent, where it kept everyone rapt with cool artic summer air.

 

Augusta Longbottom and her soon 15-year-old grandson, Neville Longbottom, were the first to arrive at Winterfell. Dumbledore arrived early too at Winterfell, he said his hellos to everyone, he even met the six wolf pups with bright interest. However, he didn’t stay there long, telling Lyanna and Ned, he had urgent business of Hogwarts School related affairs that needed his full and immediate sustenance on.

 

Beginning to leave, Albus had then wished Jon and Robb a happy 15th birthday, giving vital advice to the two cousins. “Fifteen is an important age for young men, it’s an age when you must start to realize what your purpose is. It’s an age when your life begins to change.” The Hogwarts Headmaster told the two adolescents, before walking away with a slice of chocolate cake, charming it to sweet lemon,leaving afterwards.

 

Professor Minerva McGonagall and Professor Tyrion Lannister appeared next. The Reed family, the Weasley family, the Bones family, and then the Baratheon family arrived soon after everyone (excluding Cersei Lannister and her eldest son Joffrey Baratheon). 

 

The teenagers then naturally allotted into their age distinctive groups of friends. Daenerys, Jon, Robb, and Theon grouped with Susan Bones, Ron Weasley, and Neville Longbottom— since they were same age and were going to Hogwarts in the fall. The seven tried to get to know each other, they wanted to make friend groups which would last at Hogwarts School— for the next seven years there. They wanted it to be perfect.

 

Ginny Weasley, Ron’s fourteen-year-old sister, soon showed up to the group, she tagged along with Ron. Ginny swung her legs in the chair as she picked at her small slice of chocolate cake. Arya soon tagged along with her older brother and her eldest cousin. Arya, along with Daenerys, weren’t happy that Arya’s mother made her wear a summer silk dress, when she herself proved to hate normal dresses as much as they did. Arya and Dany didn’t mind wearing their dresses, they just liked to have their belly buttons— and their flat tummies exposed to air (like when they wore their hot bikinis, while they hanged out at their home pool). The two did this so much since they wanted drive their boyfriends and potential future boyfriends insane.

 

Lyanna was able to convince the two to give mercy to everyone, when she convinced them to dress with minimum showings of their bodies being exposed. She did this as it would be awkward for the adults, especially for herself, as her daughter was a clone of herself when she too grew up at Winterfell. Lyanna Stark, like her daughter, was a pain in the ass for her parents, she wanted to show off her lean body in her bikini, displaying how hot she looked— in her short and tight torn jeans and in her tops— both to her friends and specially to her future husband, James Snow. 

 

The Weasley twins, Fred and George, were far more interested and amused in the six wolf pups, than anything else at the party, as was Minerva McGonigle and Tyrion Lannister. The twins tried to convince their older brother, Percy Weasley, into letting them feed his fifteen-year-old rat, Scabbers, alive to the Direwolf pups. However, their brother refused, which led to Fred and George trying to steal the shuddering rat, who sensed the wolf pups desiring to rip him angrily into shreds. This led to their brother hexing them. 

 

“I want go with all of you.” Arya and Ginny both pouted to the fifteen-year-olds. “You’ll come next year, little sister,” Jon told Arya with his smile, “so will Ginny and Sansa.” Sansa smiled at her one-year older brother and one-year older cousin. “I cannot tell you how excited that I am finally coming to Hogwarts next year, Jon,” said Sansa excitingly, “I want next summer to come quickly, I so want it to come now!”

 

“Don’t worry, Sansa, you three will be going next year. And before you know it, next summer will be here.” Susan promised them. Neville then miserably moaned. “I don’t want to go at all,” he told them, as he worked his way through his second piece of cake, clearly leading everyone, “in the all you can eat” cake eating contest.“Why not, Neville?” Daenerys asked him gently. “I promise you it will be fun. Right Robb?”

 

“Of course!” Robb conveyed; his Scottish accent rippled with his excitement. “We’ll be in Gryffindor, I’d book it right now,”Robb claimed to them confidently. “Don’t, I know I’ll be in Hufflepuff,” Neville told them doubtfully. Jon looked at him, he must have lacked confidence, he was determined to make sure that he unlocked it for him. Daenerys looked at Jon and smiled, she wanted him to help Neville out. “No, mate, you won’t. You will be in Gryffindor, Neville. Your family has been in Gryffindor for generations. So have the Weasleys, so have the Reeds, and so have the Starks. The Sorting Hat honors custom, and those who wish to be sorted into a new House. So they can redeem their families of faults that were made in the past.” Jon stated.

 

“Let’s hope your theory is right, Jon,” Daenerys said, taking his hands into hers, “If we aren’t in Gryffindor, I want us to be in the same House, I don’t think I could be apart from you.” Jon gave her his smile. “We won’t be, babe, I promise. We’ll be in Gryffindor.” Dany smiled. She regained confidence that she was going to be a Gryffindor.

 

All of the girls giggled at seeing the sexual tension between Jon and Dany rise, they wanted them to make out in front of everyone, even Neville wanted them to kiss. Everyone wanted it— unless there was someone who was betting on it not happening. However, Ronald Weasley didn’t want it to happen, he didn’t want to watch his closest friends growing up to make out at all. “Eh- Fred and George say I’ll be in Hufflepuff.” Ron revealed to the group, wanting to escape the imminent make out between Jon and Dany. Robb cursed himself mentally as Ron spoke, he resignedly took out two Gold Gallons out of his pocket and handed it to Theon, who just smirked jubilantly. Theon had just won their latest bet, he made with Robb, regarding a pair oflove birds. “Course you will, mate,” one of the Twins popped out from under the table, the other trailed behind, this caused everyone being in a daze at the sight.

 

“You’ll never make it past the sorting into Gryffindor.” The other said jestingly.

 

“How do you get sorted?” Ginny then asked her two older brothers. “Is it a test?”

 

“Oh yes,” the twins said together.

 

“Well, there’s a long-written essay,” one said, “and then there’s a practical way, of course.” The other added on. “What’s the practical?” Ron asked them nervously. “Facing a dragon of course.” Jon and Dany erupted into laughter, along with Theon and Robb, as Neville and Ron looked like they were ill. They had no time to assure Ron and Neville that the twins were joking— when the Macmillan’s arrived at the party. 

 

Ernie Macmillan, after giving his former greetings to his mother and his uncles, practically sprung his way to where the teenagers his age were standing around. “Happy Birthday, Robb!” Everyone turned to look at him. “Happy Birthday, Jon!” Ernie said loudly.

 

“Thank you, Ernie. There’s a cake here-”

 

“Don’t mind if I do. Thank you so much.”

 

Arya, Sansa, and Ginny giggled. While Susan, Dany, Ron, Robb, Jon, and Theon were rolling their eyes. Ernie was like this— fifteen years old, who pretended to be thirty-five in a different era. They were all rather used to it, it was a blessing they only had to see him at family parties, he wasn’t their favorite companion to hang out with.

 

“Are you all ready for Hogwarts? Got my books and everything. Mum let me try a few charms out for practice. I expect I’ll be ahead when we begin.” Robb and Jon looked at Theon and Dany; there was no way Ron had more knowledge about magic than what they knew. Dueling particularly—they had abilities that some seventh years didn’t have. “It’s a shame we can’t bring our broomsticks. I’d love to play Quidditch there this year.”

 

“We can’t bring our brooms?” Robb and Jon choked on their cake. “That sucks.”

 

“We’ll let you two teens borrow ours!” The twins then grinned at Jon and Robb. “Ronnikens borrows it when he can’t get off the ground-” Ron went red with anger. “I can fly too!” Ron snapped at his brothers. “Yeah, you can,” Fred conceded him, “but Ginny always outstrips you by a mile.” George hooked on. “So?” Ron muttered. “I know how to fly a broom.” Ginny gazed Robb and Jon, seeing what they thought of her flying fast than Ron, but they weren’t listening to the conversation at all. Robb and Jon were wondering if they could convince their Uncle Benjen if he would help the two teens traffic their brooms in, as their father and their mother would never allow them to do such an act. Ned and Lyanna would never indorse this and neither would Remus.

 

As the sun set and the evening settled in, people began saying their goodbyes. The Longbottoms first. The McMillians second. The Weasleys third. The Reeds fourth. The Baratheons fifth. Minerva McGonigle and Tyrion Lannister soon after. The guests who stayed were Susan Bones, her aunt, and Remus, who lived at Winterfell.

 

Arya, Bran, Dany, Jon, Susan, Sansa, Theon, Robb, and Rickon moved inside, the kids had been playing in a wizard chess tournament, Jon and Susan were now playing each other in the final round, while the rest of the seven kids watched. Their eyes kept drifting outside to the adults conversation, which was no longer in separate parties. Amelia Bones was speaking and the teenagers were trying to listen but she was being too quiet for them to hear anything except for slurry murmurs.

 

“Jon has a right to know!” It was Uncle Benjen’s voice; louder than anyone else. Ned tried to calm his little brother down with his little sister’s help. “I mean it. If I were him— I’d expect to be told. He’s fifteen years old! I wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

 

“You’ve never taken a no for an answer, Benjen!” Lyanna hissed at her little brother. “Yes, my son will be fifteen years old in less than three days, little brother, but you must understand— how are you supposed to tell a fifteen-year-old that he has a…”

 

“Lya is right.” This time it was Remus Lupin’s voice. “We can’t tell Jon that yet.”

 

“Are you sure you don’t want us here for this—” Susan’s aunt asked them gently.

 

“Thank you.” Ned Stark interrupted. “Honestly thank you. Though I think this should be a family conversation. Besides, we do have someone who’s going to come over on my nephew’s birthday to help not only to my nephew, but also my niece. James Snow was their father, and they have a right to know how their father died. Perhaps afterwards… I’ll be sure to let Jon and Arya know they can speak to Susan if they need to talk to her.”

 

The sound of chairs moving and rustling of grass sent the teenagers darting back to around the chess board, all of them trying to look as innocent as they could. Jon chewed his lip, hoping that he looked more like he was focused on the game, trying to not worry about what his mother and his three uncles were talking about. Once the adults came into the room— all the teenagers and the kids got on their feet. 

 

“Time to go, Susan,” her aunt said sweetly. “Do you need any help cleaning up?”

 

“It’s alright, Ms. Bones,” Robb told her, “my cousin and I can pack this game up.”

 

“Thanks, Robb. Thanks, Jon, I owe you both one,” Susan told the two admiringly.

 

Jon and Robb easily packed and put away the chessboard, the pieces obediently climbing back into the box. Susan said her goodbyes to the other teenagers before finally saying her goodbye to Jon. After this— Ned Stark and Lyanna Stark walked them out.

 

Three days later, the night of Jon Snow’s fifteenth birthday, the Stark family gathered in the family lounge in the castle of Winterfell. Benjen sank into a rather large plushy armchair, Remus took a seat on the edge of the couch next to Robb, the teens were sitting around the lounge fluffy bean bags set all over the carpet. While Dany sat with Jon, nestling into him in another large plushy armchair, right next to Benjen. 

 

“Good birthday today, Jon?” Remus asked. “Yes, I did, Remus. Only I’d—” Jon stopped. “Only I’d— what?” Uncle Benjen prodded as he rose his eyebrows at his nephew. “What were you talking about three days ago?” Jon said. “What was that about?” Benjen reluctantly cackled. “At least let’s wait for your Mum and Uncle Ned.”

 

Lyanna and Ned then came back into the room. “Should I put on some tea?” Lyanna asked; her hands fidgeting. “Please.” Benjen replied. “If you have coffee.” Remus cleared his throat. “Of course.” Lya told him sympathetically with a smile. “Rough weekend?” Ned asked as he sat down next to Remus. “Not as bad as it could have gone.”

 

Ned nodded at his son’s godfather. “If there were any damages don’t hesitate—”

 

“Thank you, Ned, you have always been too generous.” Remus told Robb’s father.

 

It was an accolade that he shrugged at. “Cannot be generous if I have too much.”

 

“Uncle Ned what’s this about?” Jon asked as Dany nestled her head in his neck. Ned’s face had lost color. “Just give your mum a minute longer. We’re waiting on-” There was a big thunderous knock at the door as a smile crept on Ned Stark’s face. “Hagrid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 will be up by Friday or Saturday.  
> Please leave feedback any suggestions to make this story even more badass will greatly be accepted.  
> Thank you.


	4. The Keeper of the Keys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hagrid arrives at Winterfell; Remus parallels two tyrants; Lyanna tells her kids a story.

Arya Snow had never met Hagrid, and neither had her brother, or her cousins. She’d heard her mother and her uncles talk about Hagrid, a family friend, but she’d actually never seen the half giant before in her life. It was intimidating at first.Hagrid was so large that he had to duck and turn sideways to fit through the front door. His hair was long and shaggy— just like his beard— but beneath it all, he had dark deep eyes that twinkled with a familiar sense of kindness. It wasn’t unlike what Arya or Jon had when they looked at their mother, their two uncles, and their goduncle. 

 

“Hallo, Jon! Hallo, Arya!” he said in a gruff deep voice with an accent that Jon or Arya couldn’t quite place. “Nice to meet you two and the rest of you kids— I met you two when you were babies, but of course, you two, wouldn’t remember that.” Jon got up from sharing his seat with Dany, and Arya got up from her beanbag. Hagrid extended his large arm to Jon and then to Arya. The teenage siblings shook it politely, trying not to gape as Hagrid’s hand engulfed theirs, while they shook. Robb and Theon looked across at Sansa and Dany. Whatever this was couldn’t be good— not with the tense way their father, their aunt, and their uncles were acting tonight.

 

“Have a seat,” Lya said, simply swaying her wand, abruptly pulling a chair over.

 

“I really don’t wanna break anything—”

 

Ned said a quick strengthening charms over the legs of the chair his sister had summoned over into the lounge, and when they were done, Hagrid finally sat down. The chair groaned and creaked, but in the end, withstood the Half-Giant’s weight. He gingerly lifted Lyanna’s dainty china to his lips. Jon sat back down in his shared seat with his girlfriend, as Arya returned to and sat back down on her beanbag. The two siblings were spinning in their heads with questions, so where the rest of the teenagers, and none of them had no idea of what was going to be talked about tonight.

 

When his Uncle Ned had said “family only”, three days ago on Robb’s birthday, Jon understood why Remus Lupin was here. He lived at Winterfell with the Starks, as he was his cousins’ godfather, and essentially was his and his sister’s goduncle. Remus was family, but Jon, nor the rest of the teenagers, didn’t even know Hagrid. What did Hagrid had to do with these secrets? Did these secrets had to do with his unanswered questions? About how he received his faded boomerang scar over his heart?

 

“Hagrid works at Hogwarts,” Lyanna mentioned to Jon, Dany, Theon and Robb, as she sat down on a chair, bordering her fourteen-year-old daughter, who was sitting crisscrossed on her beanbag next to her fourteen-year-old cousin Sansa. Ned sat in a matching lounger, paralleling where Lyanna’s was sited— flanking his fourteen-year-old daughter. Even though, Arya and Sansa were fourteen years old, Ned and Lyanna were the closest things to a mother and to a father for both girls. The two girls always felt safe, when they were pincered by both Lyanna and Ned.“Hagrid’s the Ground Keeper— Keeper of the Keys. And a friend of Dumbledore.” Lyanna Stark next continued.

 

“That sounds like an important job, Hagrid.” Dany complemented the Half-Giant.

 

Then after a couple of tense seconds, Jon was next to speak, “Dumbledore must be really lucky to have you at Hogwarts,” her son stated tailing Dany’s comment. The silence made the atmosphere thin. The teens looked at the adults in the room. They wondered—expressly Jon and Arya— what the conversation which was about to transpire was all about.

 

“Yes it is, Dany,” Lyanna told her son’s betroth smiling, “and you’re right, Jon, Dumbledore is really lucky to have Hagrid at Hogwarts.” She stopped for a couple of seconds. They kids had the right to know, her children had the right to know, and Jon had the right to know. “Hagrid is also a very good friend of ours, as well, he helped us all after your father…” She seemed to lose track of her sentence, her eyes looked past Jon and Dany, trying to search for the right words to say to her son.

 

It reminded Jon and Robb of the way Remus would search for words, when he talked about his condition of being a werewolf, not only to his godchildren and to his god-nephew and god-niece, but to Theon and Dany as well. The term “werewolf” was a forbidden word to utter inside Winterfell, even in private. Their late Aunt Catelyn Stark, who died when they were ten, made sure they never said the word. This pattern always happened, whenever their mother tried to tell Jon and Arya about something their family didn’t speak of, the word werewolf was just one of those they avoided. In result, it not only made the Snow siblings, but the teenagers even more curious.

 

Ned leaned forward in his seat and rubbed his jaw with one hand. “Jon, Robb,” he sighed afore ongoing, “Theon, Dany, the four of you are nearly fifteen as of now. Arya, Sansa, you both are fourteen now. While Bran and Rickon, are now of twelve. However, we have decided, Uncle Benjen, Uncle Remus, Aunt Lyanna, and I, that you are old enough for the conversation. Which is about to take place here tonight here in this room.” Ned looked at back at the soon to be four fifteen-year old kids. “You four are practically fifteen now—”

 

“Dany isn’t fifteen yet.” Theon joked. It didn’t do anything except piss Dany off. “Careful, Squiddy. You’re on thin ice right now, and squids don’t really do well in cold water, do they?” Dany queried her frenemy cynically— countering with a jab of her own.

 

Robb elbowed Theon. “Be quite and zip your annoying mouth shut!” Robb hissed at his friend. Theon reluctantly complied while Jon shook his head slowly but smirked at his girlfriend. Benjen laughed slightly and Remus tried to hide a smirk of amusement, while Ned and Lyanna rolled their eyes; this wasn’t the time for affable rivalries. “Anyway…” Ned continued— annoyed. “This is a big year for you folks. You’re teenagers entering your first year at Hogwarts, in more or less than a month. But, there’s things, you four, as well as, Arya, Sansa, Bran, and Rickon, should know before.”

 

Ned faded so Lyanna temporally relieved him. “When Uncle Ned, Uncle Benjen,Uncle Remus, and I were your age, the Wizarding World was becoming a dangerous place— not like it is now. There were people, sometimes very violent extremists, who believed that wizards like Uncle Remus and your father shouldn’t be allowed to use magic…” Lyanna’s voice trailed off, causing Remus and Benjen to take over for her.

 

“Jon, what was the major things I taught you about World War II?” Remus took over, rubbing his forehead, they were going to have to do this in a different way. “Who started it in Europe?”

 

“The person behind it was Adolf Hitler, the Supreme Leader of Nazi Germany,” Jon answered Uncle Remus, his eyes gazed at Dany, who then continued for him. “Hitler basically wanted to rule the world under his Nazi Regime. Is that correct?” Dany asked.

 

Benjen nodded as he looked at Jon and Dany sitting jointly in their wingchair. “Basically. And what did Hitler want to do to a certain religious group of people?” Robb was next to answer. “Hitler wanted to exterminate all the Jewish population, he located them in Concentration Camps, all over Europe. Where his men treated them like famished animals, placing them in Gas Chambers; he eradicated millions of them.”

 

Theon bit his lip down. It was truly remarkable that someone like Hitler was able to take benefit mankind’s nature at being conservative when it came to politics. “And it led to that because everyone in Europe tried using the political strategy of appeasement against him, which made things only worse, steering it to Hitler’s tyrannous reign. As it led to Nazi Germany taking control over the whole European Continent.”

 

The room was silent until the kids figured out why this topic was brought up. “I’m guessing there was someone like Adolf Hitler, who had a similar reign in the Wizarding World. Right, Mum?” Arya looked up at her mother; her eyes were filled with staid.

 

“Yes, Arya,” Lyanna replied, trying to keep her fear bay, “there was a man like Hitler.” She revealed, looking at her daughter, who wasn’t relaxed on her beanbag anymore. Instead, Arya was sitting up; there was nothing to be relaxed about this conversation. Lyanna looked at Ned, glaring at him irritably, they were tiptoeing. One of her two brothers had to regrow a pair of balls, or she was going to be pissed at them and at Remus, for making her reveal the full history of the First Wizarding War.

 

“You see, Jon,” Ned picked up, “like Nazism, there was a great debate amongst wizards and witches on a topic entitled blood-purism. These wizards considered themselves higher over others, as they boasted themselves about being pureblood. (For one to be pureblood— one needs to be born from a pureblood magical lineage) Some of these purebloods, they measured and still measure themselves superiorover those, that they perceive are inferior to them; Half-Bloods, Muggleborns, and Muggles.”

 

Benjen grunted and crossed his arms resentfully. “Or so they would like to think. If those “pureblooded” families didn’t marry Half-bloods, Muggleborns, or Muggles, we would die out. I’d really like to trace back their family trees, proving to them they descended from lineages— that didn’t inherit magical blood— and shove it up their arrogant arses.”

 

“So Half-Bloods are from magical and muggle parents?” Sansa asked her father.

 

“Or from magical parent and a muggleborn parent.” Ned then looked at Lyanna. “A muggle-born is someone whose is born from a non-magical family. There Squibs; who are born without magic, but come from magical families. Certain purebloods look down on squibs and muggleborns, Sansa. Some even accuse them of stealing magic.” 

 

“WHAT?!” Arya hollered infuriated. 

 

Jon couldn’t believe this; this accusation was extremely-disgustingly laughable. “That’s ridiculous! They’re paranoid about Half-Bloods and Muggleborns because they don’t have a magical kin? Why? Shouldn’t they be happy that the community is thriving?”

 

“You would think so,” Lyanna sighed, “but some Purebloods that didn’t believe in purity were considered to be “Blood-Traitors”— like the Reeds and us the Starks. It caused a great division in the oldest wizarding families possibly ever in history. We the Starks were on the right side though— we still don’t believe or listen to that trash.”

 

Arya was then hit by awareness. “Mum, our Dad was a muggleborn, wasn’t he?”

 

Lyanna looked at Arya and then at Jon. “Yes, your father was a muggleborn, sweetheart, but there’s nothing to be ashamed of that. Your father was the most sweet and honorable man I ever met, and I loved him deeply. Your Dad was a great wizard.”

 

Jon was trying to hide a smirk he was going to love showing off his dueling skills to those who tormented others at school— that was going to be fun for him to do. “I’m guessing he chastened and embarrassed many ignorant assholes when he was at Hogwarts!”

 

Benjen started to laugh, but was shut up when Ned and Remus gave him dagger glares. Lyanna wasn’t laughing at her son; she knew exactly what he was thinking. “Don’t even think about doing the stuff your father did at school, Jon,” She scolded him. Lya sighed after a couple seconds past, before she continued her allocution. “Still, these bigots didn’t like as muggleborns were hailed in the Wizarding World. There was a wizard, in particular, who carried beliefs of policies of evil so immoral, that he waged a war, against those he felt were underserving of magic, and against muggles alike.”

 

“Sounds like Hitler.” Robb averred bitterly.

 

Tense silence shadowed the comment. The room had summited Mount Everest.

 

“What was his name?” Jon asked his Mum.

 

“His name was Lord Voldemort.” Lyanna said quietly and the room went silent.

 

“It was a war which split the wizarding community apart,” Remus murmured. “You either joined Lord Voldemort’s cause or died. Many were very faithful to him. They were called Death Eaters and served as his army. They killed and tortured muggleborns and muggles to array fear, and then eventually, they began attacking Half-Bloods and those that they named “Blood Traitors” as well, if you disagreed with them.”

 

“And no one could stop him?” Arya then asked. “This wizard? Lord Voldemort?”

 

“He was a very, very powerful wizard, Arya,” Uncle Benjen told her. “For years, he studied the Dark Arts, he became one of the most adept wizards in the world. Voldemort was so feared, people couldn’t even say his name, he became known as “You-Know-Who” or “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named”. There wasn’t a soul on Earth that didn’t fear him. Except for us… the Starks.” All the teens could tell Benjen was half-lying. 

 

“But, there was a wizard Voldemort was scared of, who tried ending his reign.” Ned revealed.

 

“Who?” Dany and Theon asked.

 

“Good old, Albus, of course,” Hagrid said, “he is the most powerful wizard ever!”

 

Jon’s mouth dropped. Dumbledore? The man who talked to him and his cousin about fifteen-years-old being an important age for a wizard. This man was the one who this Dark Lord greatly feared. “Albus Dumbledore tried to put a stop to this war?”

 

Lyanna bobbed her head down once. “Yes, with a counterforce of his own. Some of the strongest wizards and witches joined a covert subversive organization called the Order of the Phoenix. Your grandfather, your father, your uncles, and I joined after we graduated. After finishing seventh year, when we were the legal age of 21 years.”

 

If Jon’s mouth hadn’t already been open, Arya was sure her entire mouth would have been open. “Wait, you fought against Voldemort?” Arya asked her mother. “He tried to recruit your mother and the Stark family to his side,” Ned vilified, “because he believed the Starks were a gallant, pureblooded house that should not be tainted with. He even offered to spare your father’s life, if your mother and the rest of us joined him. We told him the Starks do not errand themselves of those of pureblood radicalism. It didn’t really go well with Voldemort or his Death Eaters. Now looking back, I think we could’ve been more politically calculating with our rejection.”

 

“What happened?” Jon asked.

 

Lyanna and Ned didn’t need to silently warn their little brother Benjen, of not saying anything of the prophecy. Jon would know of it someday, but that wasn’t today.

 

“We fought against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, we tried to save as many innocent lives as we could. And in result, we put a large price on all our heads, Jon. Your father and I went into hiding with you when we found out I was pregnant with Arya—”

 

“Voldemort found us— didn’t he?” Jon transected; his voice echoed the gravity.

 

Lyanna’s voice was so low that anyone could barely hear her. “Yes, he found us.”

 

“On the night of October 31st, 1981,” Hagrid recalled after what seemed to be minutes of utter silence, “You-Know-Who turned up in the village called Godrick’s Hallow. Where you were living in at the time with your parents. You was eighteen-months-old, Jon.” Hagrid next gawped his little sister. “And you was four-months-old, Arya.” The two didn’t need it continued. He tried to strain himself but couldn’t. Hagrid suddenly hauled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief, and then blew his hulk nose like a foghorn.

 

Silence arose once more until Arya whispered softly. “Did Voldemort kill Dad?”

 

Lyanna felt her russet eyes get watery as her daughter asked her that question. She had to be strong for her children. She was a wolf, and she survived Voldemort, Jon and Arya were wolves, and they survived Voldemort. Lya breathed; she was a wolf. 

 

“Yes, honey,” Lya revealed to Arya sadly, “he murdered your father that night.”

 

After another tense round of gloom silent seconds, it wasn’t long until Jon Snow, the now fifteen-year-old boy, felt everyone’s eyes on him. Their eyes were studying the Direwolf t-shirt he was wearing, a particular section of his white tinted shirt. The section that attired his faded cerise mark from being seen— unless he took off his summer sark, which hid the scar he got over his heart. The scar Jon inherited for as long as he remembered. Nothing needed to be said, the clouds were weakening, but a storm, a storm that would control the rest of his life, had replaced it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliff hanger- I don't do these but it felt perfect here. Don't worry you'll get Jon's reaction about it with Dany next chapter. Chapter 5 ETA is Tuesday or Wednesday.

**Author's Note:**

> This series will be probably over 100 chapter-- maybe more.


End file.
